


Red Dress

by Angelwingsl3 (Marie_Fanwriter)



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Adorable Fluff, Coffee Shop, F/M, First Meeting, ME1, Prequel, giftfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-17 06:26:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16969389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Fanwriter/pseuds/Angelwingsl3
Summary: What started out as a normal day for Tiran ended up becoming so much more.





	Red Dress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CristalDePhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CristalDePhoenix/gifts).



> Merry Christmas Cristal! You deserve all the best things, I hope this makes you smile.
> 
> Beta: [**Kuraiummei**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuraiummei/pseuds/Kuraiummei)
> 
> Embedded art by [**Carver Mason**](https://carvermason.tumblr.com/) (on Tumblr). I am in love with how this turned out. Thank you!

_Red Dress - Chapter 1_

The day started out just like any other -headed out the door for morning kava.

A little way down the street from where he worked there was a lovely little café. It was nestled in the base of an apartment building, the soundproofing excellent through the air-locked doors to the outside so even as patrons came and went there was little outside noise. The colour palette was warm and calming, all rich browns and greens. Stencilled on one of the walls was an artistic tree above a fake stone fireplace.

The little touches added up to something special and it had quickly become his favourite after just a few visits. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to say he was probably helping to keep it afloat with his twice, sometimes thrice a day, purchases. They were styled to be a more personal shop, without an automated kiosk in sight.

He went -arguably- too often to the little establishment, and today he was a little shorter on time than normal but starting off without his fix sounded like a good way to jinx the next twenty hours.

Specialty kava was a small luxury that he allowed himself. Medical school hadn’t been cheap but doctors were expected to be well-off. Especially those who lived on the Citadel. He felt it better to keep up appearances with some small purchase rather than blow his budget on a fancy skycar as his roommate had done.

Life would change eventually. Until the time came, the green-eyed doctor knew that he needed to keep his spending down and his focus on the straight and narrow.

His long stride took him in the doors on auto-pilot, eyes dipping half closed as the aromatic cloud of freshly brewed kava and the sickly-sweet smell of newly made baked goods assaulted his senses. He raised a bare-taloned hand to the barista, Seleste, and spread his mandibles is a warm smile. The ever-placid beverage crafter nodded back to him, the many fingers of her free hand coming up to wiggle at him in an odd little welcome before her attention was pulled away.

He needn’t go far as the queue stretched nearly the entire way to the door. Joining the line, he attempted to be patient. He already knew that his morning order of a large clear kava with an extra shot of caffeine would be ready by the time he reached the counter to pay. He wasn’t much of a breakfast turian, but kava? Was a true gift from the Spirits.

Emerald eyes scanned the lineup, noting an unusually long line of people. A good thing for the business, but less so for his timing on getting to work. The hanar at the front chose that moment to move away from the counter with their purchases, two drink holders and a bag of baked goods held in its tentacles. He suppressed a groan as the next patron stepped up and appeared to be making a similarly large order. It was definitely going to be a while before he got a turn. He’d have -maybe- five minutes to enjoy his drink before needing to head out, and really, the beverages here deserved so much better than that.

That groan managed to escape as a sigh, followed by a deep bass rumble of, “Figures” muttered under his breath. Hopefully, he wasn’t going to be _actually_ late to work….

“Hmmm?” A lighter, dual-toned hum caught his attention.

He turned around to offer a polite ‘nevermind me’,  but standing there was one of the most aesthetically pleasing females he’d ever had the chance to lay his eyes on. She was shorter than him, maybe a metre and three quarters to his towering two-metres. Her hide though… it was paler than pale, a unique and creamy tan with peach-hued plates. Her eyes were as clear as the southern sea back on Palaven... narrowed with uncertainty and a hint of suspicion.

He realized he was staring.

“Oh uh…” he began awkwardly, shaking his head to forcibly break eye contact with the female. “I just meant that the line is a little longer this morning, and I’m a bit behind, so it uh… figures....” Unbidden, his left palm came up to squeeze at the spinal plating under his fringe.

Her eyes left him then, tracing the length of the queue. “I suppose you’re right.” She paused a moment, and he thought that might have been as much chatter as he’d get, but then she decided to continue the conversation. “Is it usually shorter at this time of day?”

Relieved that she hadn’t taken offence at his staring, he agreed with an amicable flange. “Usually. They must have gotten behind from someone getting drinks for the office. Few things seem to slow Seleste or Meren down,” he smiled at her hum of interest, glad that she wanted to chat with him at all. “I’m a bit of a regular sight in here,” he offered to continue the thread of conversation, not that knowing the staff hadn’t made that a touch obvious.

“I suppose it’s obvious that I’m new then,” she replied mildly, resting back into her hip and watching his face. He was caught up by just how light a blue her eyes were. “My first time here.”

He shrugged, certain there were afternoon or night cycle patrons that he hadn’t met yet. “Mmnn. Business or pleasure?”

Delicate mandibles fluttered into a slight smile. “Business, unfortunately. And yourself?”

“The same,” he offered in return. “I work not too far, this café is enroute for me.” Needing to keep his eyes off of her to keep from staring, he scanned the line again. They were still a few customers back, a pair of asari ahead of them, and then a human patron at the counter taking their sweet time with a seemingly complicated order.

Another sigh escaped him. “Tell me you’re not one of the people with a thousand modifications are you?” he joked, flicking his chin toward a colourful countertop sign about mocha-frap-soy-extra-foamed-whateverthehell.

At that, she chuckled, and he found he quite liked her laugh. It was almost melodic in its lightness. Warm. “Not me. Just a hot tisane with a hint of sweet and I’m all set.” Pausing she considered the question further. “Or maybe an _arimaceau_ if I’m feeling adventurous.”

“Not a kava drinker?”

“Rarely,” she shook her peach fringe. “You are then, I suppose?”

“Far too much, honestly,” he laughed, scratching at the paint beneath his right eye. His addiction to caffeine was well known around the hospital and amongst his friends.

It came to his turn in line and he held out a hand to her, gesturing for her to order before him. He caught the little smirk that she made as she placed the order with Meren, he hoped she thought the gesture courteous and not obnoxious.

“Can I get a combo three with an _arimaceau_ please?”

The salarian barista punched in her order. “With the fruit or roll?”

“Ah…” she hummed in momentary consideration, rubbing her chin as she looked at the holographic pictures before deciding. “The fruit, please.”

“Of course, is that everything?” The salarian confirmed with his conversation partner. When she nodded he looked up at the taller male. “Tiran, just the usual?”

“Add a silgur roll this morning too, will you?”

Meren nodded in placid agreement and before the female could complain or argue he’d already pressed his ‘tool to the payment switch. Tiran led the way off to the side to wait, grabbing his already made drink and using it to warm his hands. He really should have worn a jacket over his scrubs this morning, but had been too sleep-lagged to find one before leaving his apartment and too stubborn to go back in for one when he realized his mistake.

She joined him off to the side, eying him with slight suspicion. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.”

“Didn’t need to, no.” He grinned. “I wanted to.”

At that her neck flushed with just a hint of light blue, her mandibles fluttering with nervous energy. It was adorable in his opinion.

They waited in comfortable silence for the next few minutes, a topic not easily coming into their talons. Not without prying deeper into one another’s lives. It was almost a relief when her breakfast came at the same time as his roll. It meant the doctor hadn’t needed to leave prematurely. Tiran could have sworn Seleste winked as she put the orders down.

“I uh… don’t suppose you have time to sit down for breakfast?” he offered without much of an expectation that it’d work.

“That would be nice actually,” she took the package off the counter and gestured for him to lead the way. “I was early. Didn’t want to get lost on my way here this morning.”

“New to the Citadel?” he asked conversationally as they moved to sit down at one of the two-seater tables. Even though the line was bustling, there were still a fair number of seats open. Most of the morning crowd were ones to get drinks and breakfasts to go more than sit. The afternoons, however, were full of patrons wanting to sit and read or chat on first dates. It was a cozy little nook.

Her light voice brought him back to the conversation. “Something like that.”

Seeing as she was avoiding the topic of work, he let it go and dug for something new while taking a sip of his kava. It was just cool enough to drink since it had been sitting ready for him. “I’ve only lived here a handful of months myself. Still getting used to it.”

“Oh? Where were you before?”

“All over the place really,” he replied with a shrug, opening up to her with easy grace. The skill came from years of doing the same for patients, offering them a piece of himself in order to get them to trust him. “Just finished my service years. Travelled a lot. Finally landed here when I mustered out.”

Her expression had taken on a curious twist as she put down her sandwich. “Really? I wouldn’t have pegged you as infantry.”

“Doctor in the field,” Tiran explained. His build didn’t lend to him being anything but an office worker, all wiry and without the bulk of muscle one usually saw on soldiers. “Not quite front-line work, but... not exactly living on base either.”

“I see.” She tapped her talons against the table, not seeming to be either disappointed or impressed with his statement. Just held it as though it was a new fact she’d learned. “Are you enjoying your new position?”

He dipped his charcoal-plated crest in agreement. “Mmmm... I was happy to serve my Hierarchy years, but yeah. The Citadel is more my speed,” he raised his cup slightly. “Kava’s better too.”

“I’ll leave that to your judgment,” his breakfast partner chuckled and then sat back in her seat to sip at her drink after blowing across the top of it. Though her height was on the smaller side, he could tell that she carried a fair amount of muscle beneath her clothing. Not a heavy labourer, but perhaps a dancer?

Another sip of his kava went down before he managed to tear his gaze off of her. He was captivated by the rare blue colony markings, he couldn’t place them which was strange for him. He’d grown up on the homeworld after all and that colour was unique to Palaven’s oldest families.

“I don’t supp-”

He was interrupted by a loud ping from his omnitool. When he brought his arm up to check the message he saw it was an emergency callout from the hospital. There had been a significant accident at the docks, and everyone was getting called in for it.

When he looked up, a pair of intensely interested ocean-blue eyes was staring at him.

“I’m sorry. It’s work,” he explained cooly to her as he stood from the small table. “It was really nice meeting you. Enjoy breakfast!”

He was already out the door before she had the time to reply.

The walkways were beginning to fill with people at this early hour of the morning. Being only a kilometre or so away from the Huerta Memorial hospital meant that jogging there would be quicker than waiting for a rapid transit vehicle. His comfortably booted feet were heavy on the metal walkway as he picked up his pace, long legs covering the distance within a matter of minutes. He might not have been particularly strong, but he was at the least moderately fast for his species.

Pedestrians parted for the rushing doctor. Whether it was because of his attire or just his stature, he didn’t know. It didn’t matter much, the effect was the same.

It was cool out, as usual, the Citadel kept a few degrees cooler than he’d of liked. Normally it was the bane of every Turian’s existence on the station, but today it was helpful for once, helping cool him as he ran the short distance remaining.

As Tiran approached the staff entry doors to Huerta Memorial Hospital he slowed his pace to catch his breath. He’d need to be able to speak once he was inside, already C-Sec escort sirens were blaring in the distance, rotating blue and orange lights had begun reflecting off of the metallic walls of the presidium.

When he made it through the gates he fully stopped, hands sliding down the length of his legs to rest on his thighs. A moment’s rest before the storm began. Absently, he realized only now that he’d left his half-drunk kava and untouched roll on the table with the turian he’d met. The female with those infinitely curious ocean eyes.

He didn’t even know her name.

-0-0-0-0-

When Aiesha rolled out of bed that morning, the last thing she’d expected was to meet anyone interesting while waiting for her contact. It had seemed a decent cover as any to head into a local café in search of breakfast before wandering around the parkette further down the ward, pretending to be just another soldier on shore leave.

She’d had no reason to rebuff the dark-plated turian. He’d seemed… _honest._ There was something about him that immediately set her at ease, and it wasn’t as though she had anywhere better to be. Joining him seemed almost normal.

And _that_ was a term Aiesha hadn’t heard in a while.

The male… Tiran… was tall, wirier than anything. That lent evidence to him being in the medical field as his uniform so claimed him to be. Light mint-green scrubs and boots comfortable enough to wear all day on his feet. Immediately she had guessed nurse or something of a more supportive role in nature, simply from the easy way he spoke. He didn’t have a nametag, so there was nothing for her to confirm with.

Although, he’d said doctor once she’d agreed to join him for breakfast. That had surprised her too, beyond paying for her own more expensive meal without a thought, he’d offered to shift his plans just to spend a few minutes with her. It was… endearing maybe.

It was a surprise when her breakfast partner had rushed out. Blue eyes fell on the mostly finished kava and untouched roll that sat across the table from her. She hadn’t even told him her name before he’d rushed out... and for some odd reason, that disappointed her.

A hundred times she’d flirted undercover, why was this time different?

The agent relaxed back into her chair, swirling the dregs of her beverage around. Absently, her mandibles pulled to the side as she considered her options. An idea had begun prodding its way into her mind. She was going to be on the Citadel for a while… perhaps she could… no.

Aiesha put the cup down rather harshly against the table and huffed. It was silly to want to see the stranger again. Her work didn’t allow her time to cavort and, usually, she had no inclination. Still, her gaze travelled to the counter. The line had dwindled.

It couldn’t really hurt and he might not even reply.

Standing in one smooth motion, Aeisha headed for the counter. Joining the reduced line, it only took a few moments for her to reach the front.

“Excuse me,” she prompted.

It was the salarian, Meren she remembered from the brief glance she’d had at his nametag upon walking in, that approached her. A curious tilt to his elongated head as she placed the paper bag with the roll sitting inside of it down on the counter.

“I don’t suppose you remember the male I was sitting with? Tall, dark plates, scrubs.” Aiesha described him shortly, figuring if he was truly enough of a regular that the barista would know who she meant.

“Tiran, yes. Saw him run out.” He gave her a noncommittal head bob before pointing towards the screen along the back wall, one she hadn’t been able to see from her seat looking out across the kava shop. “Don’t take personally. Probably off dealing with that mess.”

Her gaze swung back to where Meren pointed, a quick scan telling her that there was indeed a big accident that warranted all hands on deck. Some idiot had decided to land their ship by hand at the Citadel docks instead of letting the VI take care of it and they’d botched the technical maneuver terribly.

“I don’t suppose you do delivery?” she questioned as the reel turned over and the next news story came up. Meren blinked at her with his large black eyes and moved back toward the till without answering verbally though he did nod slightly as if it was a secret. “Any chance he gets lunch here once in a while?”

The slender salarian smiled as he typed something into the interface. “Probably too often. Will send Seleste over with it when shift ends. Who should I say it’s from?”

Aiesha allowed her mandibles to slide into a charming smirk: “Lucila. Lucila Veret.”

\---

**Author's Note:**

> <3


End file.
